Shells
by Electron Beam
Summary: I bet you didn't know 'shell' had so many meanings." for sunflowerb's "Us" contest.


Shells

When she had first appeared on the islands, nobody knew what to think. Nobody claimed to be her family, Immigration didn't have any record of her entering through an airport or seaport, and there hadn't been an illegal immigrant to the Islands in forty-five years. It was as if she had appeared from nowhere.

The young boy who found her lying on the beach had picked her up and dragged her across the sand to his small rowboat tied to a dock. Thankfully, the weather had been fair that evening, and he didn't need to try very hard to move the extra weight over the water. But he stopped anyway. He stopped when he heard a small _clink_ on the bottom of the boat. Turning his head, he pulled in the oars and investigated.

There, rocking back and forth with the waves, was a small seashell. Though the boy was too young to know the name of that kind of shell, he had seen them many times before. It fanned out from a point, grooves getting more and more separated until it suddenly cut off with a sharp arc. Usually they were white as ivory, but some were colored pastel pinks and yellows. This one, however, was solid magenta on its simple exterior. It almost seemed to match the girl's hair.

He put the shell in his pocket and continued rowing. It must have fallen out of the girl's pocket; he'd give it back to her later. Eventually, he reached the main dock back and tied his boat to a mooring-post. He lifted the girl's unconscious body onto the dock and ran to his house, which was a little more than a block from the beach.

His mother had called the paramedics immediately. She then gathered blankets, towels, and anything else that could be used to keep the unfortunate little girl warm in the island's cool night. When he returned to the dock, she was still there, just the same as he had left her. His mother instantly went to work drying the poor child's limbs and wiping away the sand. By the time paramedics arrived, the girl was wrapped in three blankets and had barely a grain of sand on her.

Later that night, the girl awoke in the hospital. When the doctors asked where her parents were, she couldn't remember. Nor could she remember where she lived, how she got to the Islands, or why she was alone. While her doctor called local foster homes, the boy and his mother visited her. He introduced himself as Sora, and she said her name was Kairi.

Eventually, he had to leave, as it was far past his bedtime. He resisted with all the fury a six-year-old could bring to bear, but eventually his mother threatened him with not allowing him to go to the little island anymore, and he reluctantly went home.

Over the next few days, he came back, bringing his friend Riku. When the hospital finally released her, the mayor of their little town generously opened his home to the misplaced little girl. He had expected that she would bring trouble as well as joy. What he hadn't expected was to have her bring over two rambunctious boys all the time and have them tear around the house from dawn to dusk. The mayor credited much of his prematurely gray hair to his adopted daughter. But he never regretted his decision.

Nor did the two boys, who were glad that she didn't have to go to a foster home, which was all the way on the other side of the island. What had been a pair of rowdy boys now became a group of two rowdy boys and one girl that kept them in check. The three were nearly inseparable. Every day off, they met up at the dock to play on their little island just offshore. Every evening, they rowed back home, exhausted from a long day of running around and playing.

During all this, the younger boy had forgotten to give the shell back to the girl. He didn't see it again for nearly a year, when his mother forced him to clean his room. It was underneath his bed, next to an old comic book and a worn-out sock. He simply placed it in his nightstand as a keepsake. She hadn't asked for it back, so maybe it wasn't hers.

The shell sat there for years. Every so often, as the boy was about to drift off to sleep, he'd remember the shell. He'd retrieve it from the nightstand and look at it, remembering the day his group became three.

***

Kairi was on the beach near the cove again, combing the beach for something. Sora didn't know _what_ she was looking for, but he knew that she had been looking for days. His ten-year-old curiosity wouldn't stand for this mystery any longer. He hopped down the ledge to the beach and walked towards her.

"Hey Kairi! Whatcha lookin' for?"

She dropped to a knee to pick something out of the sand. Holding it up for him to see, she declared "This!" Seeing the confusion on her friend's face, she explained. "It's a thalassa shell. I'm making a necklace out of them."

Sora took a hard look at the shell held up to him. "It's pretty. Can I help look?"

"Uh huh. Just watch where you step. They're kinda fragile."

He looked under both of his shoes, hoping he hadn't destroyed any of the shells accidentally. Relieved to find nothing but sand, he hunched over, looking for the desired objects. "Are they hard to find?"

Kairi laughed. "Of course not, silly! Look." She untied a pouch from her belt and held it open for him to see. Inside were dozens of thalassa shells of many different sizes. "But they don't all work. The ones on a necklace have got to be just right or it looks all weird."

Sora continued his hunt. "Well, I'm gonna find ones that are just right." He picked a shell out of the sand. "Does this one work?"

Walking over to examine her friend's find, Kairi nodded with satisfaction and plucked the shell from his fingers, putting it in the pouch on her belt. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Maybe if you find enough, I'll make a necklace for you, too."

"I'd like that a lot."

They spent the next two hours combing the beach for perfect shells. Sora quickly learned to be discriminating in which shells he picked up. Not only did they have to be the right size, but they had to have the right color, too. They had to be the right general shape, couldn't be chipped or cracked, couldn't smell bad, couldn't be too dull, had to be lightweight, and even had to make the right sound when clinking against other shells. "It shows how strong it is," explained Kairi to a disbelieving Sora.

After Kairi deemed the number of gathered shells to be sufficient, she took Sora to a small cave under the ledge Sora had hopped down earlier that day. Near the entrance was a boulder as big as either of them. Sora recognized Riku's shoe prints scattered around it. Undoubtedly the stronger boy had moved the rock earlier.

Though the day was hot and humid, the air inside the cave was cool and dry. It was just small enough to be well lit from the opening, but big enough to fit both of them comfortably. Kairi sat down near the cave wall and carefully spread out the collected shells, selecting the very best for use in her necklaces. The pile of rejects grew much faster than the pile of those chosen to be used; Sora was worried that there wouldn't be enough for two necklaces.

His fears proved unfounded as Kairi sorted her chosen shells into two piles and began threading them onto two strings she had produced from her pockets. Sora watched intently as the shells slid along the thin fiber and knocked into each other with a quiet _tink_.

After fifteen minutes, Kairi held up two strands with shells attached. "There. Now I just need to tie it to the right size and I'm done." She carefully set one necklace down and put the other around her neck, leaving enough slack for her to get it over her head again. She tied a quick knot and took the necklace off, reinforcing the knot with a second one. "Well? What do you think?"

Sora gazed at the assembly of shell and string with wonder. How could two useless things come together to create something so beautiful? "I like it a lot. It looks really good."

Giggling, Kairi blushed. "Aw, thanks, Sora. Here, now let's do yours."

She held out the second necklace-to-be and wrapped it around Sora's neck, again leaving plenty of slack. After she tied the first knot, she secured it with a second knot, same as she had done on her own. "Think it's as good as the first one?"

He nodded. "Yeah, maybe better."

Kairi smiled and placed the string of shells around Sora's neck once more, but instead of removing her arms, she pulled him into a hug. Sora was unsure of how to react. He had only been hugged by his mom before, but felt different. He hoped he was doing the right thing by returning the embrace.

When Sora returned home that night, his mother commented on how nice the necklace was and asked where he had gotten it. He didn't understand his mother's reaction when he told her that Kairi had made it, but it was better than the usual lecture about coming home after dark yet again. He was able to scamper off to his room before his mother remembered that he had broken the rules.

Sitting on his bed in a pool of moonlight, Sora examined the necklace in the pale light. It didn't lose its beauty in the weak beams the moon cast over the islands. He put it in his nightstand, coiling it around the small red shell he had found on the bottom of his boat when he first met Kairi. As he drifted off to sleep, he dreamt of a beach of perfect shells, miles and miles of string, and a small cave with his best friend inside.

***

The three childhood friends grew, changing into three adolescents. That, it seemed, was the only thing that changed for the longest time. Though schoolwork had begun to cut into their free time, they had the good fortune to have nearly identical class schedules, allowing them to work together on their assignments. Every day, they'd head to somebody's house and work until they had either completed everything or decided it was no longer worth their time. Then, as always, they raced out to the island.

But, as time continued to pass, changes became evident. The older boy seemed to slip into trances occasionally. His talk became more philosophical, as if he had acquired new depth. The younger boy's sense of justice developed further, prompting people to predict futures for him in everything from federal agent to private eye to the judicial bench. And, though it seemed impossible, the girl became even more compassionate and caring for everyone around her. She could do absolutely no wrong.

Most groups of friends would begin to splinter and fragment after such changes. That was not the case for those three. For any given situation, older boy's philosophical outlook inspired a compassionate fervor in the girl, which moved the younger boy to act, which in turn made the older boy more philosophical. The synergy of personalities created a dynamic yet stable bond between the three.

During this time, the construction of crude wooden structures on the island accelerated. What had started as a small dock and rickety bridge grew into a beach shack, a treehouse, a dividing wall with a door, a second ramshackle bridge, a lookout tower and zip line, and a wooden deck with support structures covering large swathes of rock face. In the space of only a few years, the children of the Destiny Islands had nearly doubled the accessible area of their little island.

One construction project kept secret was a raft large enough for three people. It had been the older boy's idea; he had always wanted to visit other worlds. He was resolved to leave his small world even if it killed him. The girl would accompany him to make sure he didn't try anything too risky, and the younger boy tagged along to protect his friends in danger. Together, they planned for a journey to take them over the horizon that had imprisoned them for so long.

As their chosen departure date approached, the girl, who was always the most superstitious, remembered her old hobby of making thalassa shell necklaces. She had recently read that sailors long ago had worn those necklaces to bring them good luck. More research showed that the seal of their small nation's navy was ringed by a thalassa shell necklace. It seemed appropriate to honor the seafaring tradition with such a charm.

The weeks slowly ticked away until there were no more weeks, only days. In the final days before their adventure began, the younger boy became increasingly nervous about leaving. The timing of odd events on the island had been too convenient to be a coincidence. A wooden door had appeared in the Secret Place, accompanied by a cloaked man speaking of ties to darkness. The older boy had been acting increasingly detached over the past days. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon.

On the day before they ran from their comfortable island lives, the group gathered one last time on their small island and sat on the paopu tree, watching the sun set. Their conversation was strangely relaxed, devoid of the nervous tension the younger boy had expected. His compatriots' relative calm eased his nerves, allowing him to leave for home with a happy heart and grand expectations.

Slipping into his room, the younger boy remembered how the girl had been making thalassa shell necklaces again. He opened his nightstand, revealing the necklace she had made for him when he was ten. It was right where he had left it; its twisted shape encircling the small red seashell he had found so many years ago.

Lying on his bed, he drifted off into his thoughts. Would his journey be worth it? Would they discover a new land? A new life? A new freedom? Doubts swirled up and were quickly repressed by his newfound confidence. Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of his life. He was sure of it. He took the necklace and seashell from his nightstand and pocketed them. Maybe they were lucky.

That night, hell broke loose.

***

Sora watched the giant chameleon crush the deranged hunter, feeling a sense of relief that he had come to associate with winning a difficult victory. Tarzan beat his chest and roared while Donald and Goofy shared a small victory dance. Sora smiled, glad that he and his friends had made it past this lethal obstacle alive and in one piece.

Releasing the Keyblade, he began to tend to his injuries. He had the normal cuts and bruises that followed any heavy fighting, but there was one injury unique to this fight. His side had been grazed by a slug from Clayton's shotgun, leaving a gash just under his left arm. The wound wasn't deep, but it was painful enough to make him wince when he moved now that his combat-induced adrenaline surge was wearing off.

Donald complemented Sora's potions with magical healing, which fixed everything except the slug's lucky hit. Though the magic had helped somewhat, the wound would require physical medical attention before it could heal completely. Tarzan ran into the bamboo grove to get Jane's amateur medical expertise and the proper items for care of Sora's gash.

Sora sat in the dirt, dragging himself towards the rock face and leaning against it, waiting for Jane to arrive so he could be bandaged. The jungle air was hot and humid, making Sora's breathing labored after the hard-fought battle. It would be a few minutes before anyone would arrive, allowing him precious time to rest and sort his thoughts.

The past week had left the young Keybearer absolutely exhausted. From the mysterious destruction of his islands, he had appeared in a strange new town, fought a deck of cards and a megalomaniac Queen of Hearts, crowned champion of an Olympian tournament, and crash-landed a Gummi Ship deep in the heart of a jungle world. He had only known Donald and Goofy for those few days. In fact, he had met more new people since his islands disappeared than he had in two years on the islands. But first and foremost on his mind was the fact that his friends were still missing, leaving no evidence as to there whereabouts. Riku had momentarily reappeared, but disappeared just as quickly. Kairi had completely vanished.

His back began to hurt from leaning against the rough rock surface for so long, so he shuffled towards a more hospitable-looking section covered in vines. On his way, he felt his leg brush over something unusually cold, and stopped to investigate.

There, underneath Sora's calf, was a small cylindrical object. One end was solid orange metal, either copper or brass. The majority of the cylinder was made of a thick, rigid red paper. There was white print on it that Sora couldn't make out. The other end had a ragged hole torn in it.

Sora had never seen such an object. It was obviously man-made, and likely deposited only recently, as it was fairly clean. It didn't seem to fit with anything in the camp, though. Nothing looked like it would use this odd container. What could possibly need the strength of metal and then go and use paper? It seemed to Sora that the manufacturer of whatever it was had gotten lazy and decided that metal wasn't cost-effective and made the rest out of whatever scraps he could find.

He heard footsteps approaching from the bamboo grove. Perhaps Jane would know what the thing was.

"Sora! Are you there?" Jane's delicate voice carried through the forest of bamboo stalks and into the cliffs.

Wincing, Sora replied. "Yeah, I'm in here."

Tarzan and Jane hurriedly emerged from the grove, carrying small bags of medical equipment. Jane knelt at Sora's injured side, examining the injury with her practiced eye.

"Well, it doesn't seem to be deep enough to damage anything vital. Where did your friends run off to?"

Sora motioned to the recently destroyed rock wall to his left. "They're making sure nothing else is waiting for us over there."

Jane opened a bag and took out a small bottle of alcohol disinfectant. "Well, that's probably a good idea. Wouldn't want another one of those beasts finding its way in here, now would we? This is going to sting a little."

Before he could ask what she meant, a sharp, stinging pain lanced up Sora's torso. Jane had patted the wound with an alcohol-soaked rag in an effort to clean the wound. He pouted at the amateur nurse.

"Couldn't you have told me you were going to do that?"

Rummaging through another bag, Jane replied, "It wouldn't have hurt any less, and this way you didn't worry yourself. Now it's done and I just need to apply the bandage."

"Will that hurt, too?"

"Only if you want it to." She extracted a large piece of gauze and a roll of adhesive tape. "I'll put this on lightly, if that makes you feel any better."

In a matter of seconds, Sora's wound had been completely dressed. The gauze was neither too loose nor too tight, and it really didn't sting. Jane helped Sora to his feet. "Well then. It looks like you're in tip-top shape again. You'd better catch up to your friends before another monster like that finds us."

Nodding, Sora turned to rejoin Donald and Goofy, but he stopped short, remembering his question. He fished the red tube from his pocket.

"Hey Jane, do you know what this thing is?"

Jane's face contorted in disgust as she saw the object. "Ugh, it's one of Mr. Clayton's shotgun shells. He must have fired it when you two were fighting. Horrid things. I knew we should have made him leave them in England."

Sora contemplated Jane's answer. _A shotgun shell… That's what it's called? _He thanked Jane and left the cliffs, running off to regroup with Donald and Goofy.

_One more shell to add to the collection._

***

Both boys fought their own battles in search of their missing friend; one in light, the other in darkness. Both made new friends that helped them along their way. Both would have given their lives to make sure she was alright. But while one boy's heart led him straight and true, the other boy had been corrupted; seduced by the deceitful powers of the shadows.

A witch found the desperate boy and claimed to want to help him. She promised to lead him to his missing friend. But as the boy got closer and closer to his ultimate goal, the witch found it was easier and easier to open him to the darkness. His powers grew greater by the day. Soon, even the Heartless obeyed his command.

The other boy, chosen by the key, grew from being merely a decent threat to being a deadly, efficient force. He persevered through challenges that would destroy a lesser being. Powerful denizens of darkness began to fear him far more than they hated him. The chosen wielder of the Keyblade had single-handedly turned the tide against darkness. And through it all, his heart remained untainted by the powerful corruption of his enemies.

He passed through many worlds, meeting many people and experiencing things he never could have on the islands. He tasted foods that didn't exist on any other world. There were cultures with ideas he had never even thought of. The world of magic had been revealed to him in full, both the splendor and the evil. He had become an ace Gummi pilot.

But no matter what he did, he never forgot why he was on his quest. All the secondary and sub-objectives his fights required never overshadowed the final goal of finding his friends. He pressed on, his strength increasing with every enemy slain. With the Keyblade leading the way and his two faithful companions at his side, he was invincible.

However, time had taken its toll. Days turned into weeks, and the weeks began to pile up. Nobody had heard anything about either of his friends. Individual worlds had been saved from destruction, but no Heartless stronghold had been discovered. His aimless wandering from world to world wasn't helping to achieve any kind of strategic advantage. He was destroying the endless hordes of darkness, to be certain. But he was doing it one Heartless at a time.

In a cruel irony, he finally made contact with his older friend, only to be more confused than before their meeting. He had no doubts about his friend's loyalty, but things didn't add up. Why did he seem resentful? Why did he flee from their first contact in months? Had he just kidnapped the very boy they had tried to rescue?

The Keybearer continued onwards, no better off than when he started. He resumed his one-against-a-billion campaign, slogging through the teeming hordes sent to destroy him. As time continued to march forward, the encounter with his questionably-stable friend slipped to the back of his mind. It was the first thing to distract him from his endgame, and he wanted to forget it as quickly as possible. Cold and impersonal? Yes, but those are the demands of the warrior's mindset.

Then, as if someone had thrown a switch, everything fell into place. A staggering amount of knowledge had been placed in his hands. He knew the size of the conspiracy against him. He knew of the enemy's fortress. He knew his friend betrayed him.

But more than that, he had discovered the condition of the third member of his group. Confronted with the face of his traitorous friend, he learned that her heart was gone, and she had become nothing more than a shell herself.

Though he never showed it, standing there, on the deck of that pirate ship, his heart had screamed in agony.

***

"Naminé, the powers arrayed against us won't wait for us to bring our advantage to bear. You must hurry."

She had been hearing variations of the same statement for weeks now. If DiZ thought he was helping by saying it again, he was deluding himself. If he knew how complex and difficult this was, he'd shut his mouth in a hurry.

"DiZ, you have to understand. Memories can't be replaced and stitched back together like a patchwork quilt. Not only do they have to be in perfect order, but the transitions from memory to memory have to be _flawless_ or the heart will reject them. If that happens, he'll never wake up. And even if I can do that, I'm not certain I have all the memories his heart contained. A single missing moment will leave a gap in the chain."

What little she could read of DiZ's expression through his bandaged face showed that he was actively trying to resist admitting that she was right. It was understandable: the best hope the worlds had for salvation was sitting in hibernation, incapacitated by his own memories. That didn't make it any easier on Naminé, though.

As she had expected, he replied with a quick and utterly unhelpful retort. "Feeling sorry for yourself won't help you get this done any faster. Sora needs to be awakened before the darkness has a chance to regroup and reunify." He stalked off, unhappy that his progress was inhibited by a defenseless little girl.

Recently, Naminé had been able to ignore DiZ more and more. He still managed to get under her skin occasionally, but it was less frequent and less painful than before. While she was by no means emotionally stable, she had been able to shut him out to a greater degree. However, when she was criticized for being too slow using a power she didn't even want, it often reduced her to tears.

Hoping to avoid another breakdown, she returned to her work. She tended to his memories with machinelike efficiency and precision. Almost fifteen years of memories had to be analyzed, organized, and put back together in perfect chronological order. Even the fastest supercomputer in the universe couldn't compete with her speed.

As she watched Sora's scattered memories replay themselves, she noticed two recurring figures: the boy Riku, whom she had already met, and a girl named Kairi. The two had an interesting pattern in the memories. Whenever Riku showed up, there were feelings of close friendship and camaraderie, but also a heated competitive drive. The feelings never changed as Riku's apparent age jumped from child to teen and back again.

However, the emotions associated with a memory of the girl Kairi displayed a definite trend. As the child grew older and became closer to a young woman, feelings of affection became more and more apparent. Naminé made a mental note of this; she could use the increasing feelings of affection to sort the memories more easily.

She worked for hours on end, watching and sorting memory after memory. When she finally quit for the day, she looked at Sora's floating form one last time. A pang of regret shot through her as she remembered her role in his lamentable status. Had she not broken his chain of memories in the first place, he wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe he'd be with that girl Kairi.

Kairi intrigued Naminé. She marveled at how someone could have such an effect on another person without any special powers such as her own. Even though she had fooled Sora into believing his feelings for Kairi were actually for herself, Naminé knew very little about the girl. Maybe Sora's memories would shed more light on her.

The next day, she continued her work. She was much slower than before; something was nagging her. It was tied to Sora's well-being; that was fairly certain. Naminé couldn't figure out what it was for hours until she had a startling epiphany.

"I know why the progress is so slow."

DiZ was not one for guessing games. "Well?"

Naminé took a breath in preparation for her long-winded explanation. "I've been trying to sort and reassemble his memories outside of his heart. You'd think it wouldn't matter where it happened, but it's making all the difference in the world. His heart, lacking its memories, is actively trying to pull them back in. I always have to fight this attraction, which is what's making me so slow. If I'm able to use his heart's power to allow the memories to attempt to resort themselves, I'll be able to know if I'm right more quickly and I'll have a general idea if a specific memory needs to be sooner or later in his life."

For the first time in weeks, DiZ seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. "His heart was slowing you down?"

"Yes."

"But you can use it to accelerate your progress."

"Yes."

DiZ stood, pleased by this latest bit of news. "Excellent work, Naminé. I'll let you get back to your work."

He turned to leave and took several steps before stopping. "One moment, Naminé. Can his heart be affecting anything else in the same way it affects his memories?"

Naminé shook her head. "No. It's nearly powerless without its memories."

"Powerless?"

"It's hardly a heart anymore. Compared to what it used to be… It's just a shell now."

***

The boy had fought his way back from the brink of oblivion. He had confronted the most powerful forces of darkness, won, and lived to tell the tale. He had stared sheer destruction straight in the eyes. He had become the dominant force in the universe. Everyone familiar with his tale knew that only the most suicidal opponents would dare confront him in open combat.

Which is exactly why his newest enemies did not engage him directly. Their opening assault was circuitous and deceptive. False information and deliberate distractions were rife. They let another force fight him directly; only striking at the most strategic times and places. Where the Heartless used their strength, they used their minds.

The new enemies were Nobodies, the leftover body of a strong-hearted person turned into a Heartless. Unlike the Heartless, though, they had a direct chain of command. They could plan attacks and set traps, which the Keybearer was not used to. If the Heartless were the barbarian hordes, the Nobodies were the disciplined soldiers.

The boy knew little about the Nobodies. It was obvious that they used different methods than the Heartless, but real information was lacking. He didn't care much. His mind was set on getting back to the islands with his friends. All he needed to know was that they fell when he hit them with the Keyblade.

Soon, though, it became apparent that he would need to confront this new threat before returning to his home. He was instructed on the nature of Nobodies and their relation to the Heartless. He learned of a powerful organization of Nobodies that controlled the rest. Before long, he had set out on another journey across the universe to stop this growing threat.

He had not really cared how the Nobodies were formed. He was aware of the exact nature of the Nobodies, but it never really sunk in with him. They were, for all intents and purposes, smarter Heartless. They were the ones holding his friend this time, but the Heartless had done that before. He fought them all just the same. Identify, target, engage, destroy, move on. The combat was no different. The biggest difference was that the smart ones kept calling him Roxas.

The condition of the Nobodies was made clear to him in the most jarring way possible. He had finally located the last remaining powerful nobodies, and, surprisingly, was receiving assistance from a former member of their ranks. When the fire-wielding Nobody channeled his life force into an attack to save the boy during an ambush, he finally realized that the Nobodies were leading a desperate existence to find their past selves. He had been cutting a search short every time he destroyed a white husk.

On the floor of a passage between worlds, watching a heroic Nobody fade, he realized. The man was a shell, a shadow of his former self. All he wanted was to be whole again. The boy realized how close he and his friends had come to sharing their fate. He couldn't bear the thought of the girl as a Nobody.

He steeled himself for the fight ahead. He would save his friend and stop this threat once and for all.

***

The sun was slowly setting on the western horizon in the Destiny Islands. Sora and Kairi had been sitting on the paopu tree for hours. She had been listening to his tale of two epic quests across the worlds to find her, and he was more than happy to tell it. Their reunion earlier that day had been the most joyous moment of their young lives, and they didn't want to ruin the day by going home and being separated as their parents saw their missing children again.

Riku was asleep on the sand behind them, resting after using most of his energy to fend off a surprise attack by the Nobodies. Though they both wanted to talk to him, Sora and Kairi were grateful for the time alone. It let them catch up on all the events of the past months, both at home and far away.

As Sora finished his story by telling Kairi about the door to the light, she couldn't find anything better to do than to wrap him up in the biggest hug she had ever given him.

"You did all that for me?"

He returned the embrace. "Yeah. You're worth it."

Leaving one arm around his waist, she turned to look at the sunset. "Thank you, Sora."

Sora smiled, a warm feeling rising through him as he was finally able to be with her again. "I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

Kairi looked into his big blue eyes. She saw the pure honesty behind his statement and felt humbled by it. He was willing to go through the worst the universe could throw at him not one, but twice. And it would be for her.

Her breathing became shallow. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him. She stared into his eyes and he stared back. Her heart screamed at her to act on the years of attraction she hadn't had the courage to admit before. She was already close to him. It wouldn't take much.

She leaned ever so slightly towards him, hoping beyond hope that he would do the same. When he did, all her doubts and fears were erased. Slowly, she approached him, her lips barely brushing his. They both leaned into the kiss, and were carried away by the depth of their love for each other.

Kairi didn't know whether it was seconds or hours later when she finally pulled away from him. The sun had set considerably more, but it was still above the horizon. The sky was dusted with pinks and oranges and purples as another famous Destiny Islands sunset progressed. Had she been in a more lucid state of mind, she would have commented on how romantic the setting was.

But her mind was completely distracted by the boy on her left. Part of her was still celebrating his return, and the other part was celebrating his reciprocation of her feelings. She could tell from the small smile on his face that he was feeling the same. They both watched the sun dip below the horizon, hands held behind their backs, her head resting on his shoulder.

Ten minutes later, when the sun finally slipped from view, they stood to leave. As much as they wanted to stay together, they knew their parents deserved to see them again, especially Sora's. If they stayed on the islands much later, it would be too dark to navigate in their tiny boats.

As Sora's feet hit the ground again, there was a quiet clinking noise. Kairi raised her eyebrow quizzically.

"What do you have in your pocket?"

Sora opened the large cargo pocket on his shorts and withdrew the items within: a red seashell, a thalassa shell necklace, a shotgun shell, and a small chakram on a keychain.

"Oh. These are the things I was telling you about. You already know about the red seashell and the necklace. The shotgun shell was Clayton's, and I found the chakram keychain after Axel vanished."

Kairi nodded. "Interesting…"

"What?"

She chuckled at her own discovery. "Many of your stories involved shells. Now you take out three shells and one symbolic shell from your pocket. It just seems like we've always been connected by something; there's _always_ been something."

"You just didn't expect it to be… shells."

"Exactly." She began to walk to the bridge with him. "So what shell describes where we are now?"

Sora cocked his head, staring into the distance as he thought about her query. "You know, I can't think of one."

Kairi pouted. "Aw. I wanted another 'shell' story."

A smile slowly worked its way across Sora's face until he was grinning from ear to ear in devious delight. Kairi took the bait. "Whatcha smiling at?"

He stopped walking. "You said there's no 'shell' to describe us right now?"

She sensed something off. "Yes…"

Sora was practically bobbing with delight. "I guess that means… we've come out of our shell."

There was a moment of silence as Kairi fully registered what he had said.

"… Sora, that was _awful_!"

"Aw, c'mon!"

She playfully hit him on the chest. "No! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! That was a _terrible_ pun! What's the matter with you?"

"You just have no appreciation for my humor."

"That was bad, and I'll prove it." She walked over to Riku and shook him awake. "Riku, I need your help with something."

"Huh… um… what?" The groggy Riku couldn't quite understand Kairi's request in his sleepy state.

"Just listen." Kairi explained the setup behind Sora's pun, ending with the joke itself. Riku groaned out loud when he heard it.

"Sora, you ought to be shot for that. That was _so bad._"

"Oh _come on!_ That was funny!"

Riku shook his head in mock disgust. "I don't think I can talk to you anymore. I'm leaving."

Sora shouted after him as he made his way across the bridge. "You wouldn't know funny if it smacked you in the face!"

He pouted as he turned to Kairi, hoping for some sympathy. "I thought it was funny. Didn't you think it was funny?"

She giggled. "Yes, it was kinda funny."

Upon hearing that, Sora immediately perked up. "Great! I knew you liked me."

"Loved you."

"Hmm. I suppose I should have picked up on that."

Kairi put her arm around his waist as they walked across the bridge. "I think we both picked up on that."

The new couple walked across the beach and climbed onto the dock, where Riku was already casting off. There was only one boat left, so they both clambered inside and untied the boat from its moorings. Sora picked up the oars and began rowing. He maneuvered the boat around the bulk of the island and began the long haul to the mainland.

Halfway across, Sora said, "I bet you didn't know 'shell' had so many meanings."

Leaning against the bow of the tiny rowboat, Kairi smiled and shook her head. "No, I certainly didn't. But Sora?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's try to keep our lives shell-free from now on."

He leaned forward and quickly kissed her. "Agreed."

_End_

A/N: This was for sunflowerb's "Us" contest. I realize it's kind of an eleventh-hour entry, but I wrote and rewrote this fic over nearly a month before the deadline yanked it out of my hands.

I noticed that, ironically enough, sunflowerb wrote a fic with a similar concept called "Plus". I even left a review on it. I didn't mean to write something so similar; this was actually spawned during a playthrough of KH and KHII where I noticed the number of times something could be described as a 'shell'. I had completely forgotten about "Plus" until I looked up the entry requirements on sunflowerb's profile page, at which point I thought, "Uh oh, she's gonna think I stole the concept." I kinda did, but it was accidental. I would have written this the same way anyway. Please don't judge me!


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